Chapter 15: Until a Proper Card is in Hand (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 15: Until a Proper Card is in Hand (2)
Heisia Palace was Queen Silike’s residence.
In its rear garden stood a greenhouse, roughly the size of two of Calian’s rooms combined. The structure, with its walls and ceiling made entirely of glass, was always filled with Renieri leaves. Unlike the heavy perfume that constantly wafted from Silike, no particular fragrance lingered here. The mysterious white Renieri flowers bloomed only once a year, for a single day.
Inside, a white table and chairs were set up. Silike sat there, as beautiful and picture-perfect as a figure in a painting.
However, the sharp, fierce look in her eyes made Lennon flinch.
She seems to be in a bad mood again… Well, of course she is. There’s no reason for her to be happy.
On the first day of the festival, the Second Prince, Franz, had shown up in the plaza completely drunk. That alone was enough to make her blood boil, but the real problem was something else entirely. Even now, two days later, no one was criticizing him. The fact that not a single reproachful glance was directed at Franz—all thanks to Calian—only served to grate on Silike’s nerves.
Consequently, Lennon’s heart sank. He had intended to report Alan Manasil’s arrival in Kairis as soon as he arrived, but given her current state, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. She would surely hear the news eventually, even without him.
I should just deliver the shoes and get out of here quickly.
Lennon cautiously gestured to the butler standing behind him.
The butler handed the gift box to the head maid, who opened it and presented it to Silike.
"What is this?" Silike asked, peering inside the box, though she undoubtedly already knew.
Inside was a pair of pale yellow shoes that perfectly complemented her eyes, with a large diamond embedded in the center of the gold ornamentation. As Silike scanned the shoes, her eyebrows twitched upward. She was pleased.
"They are the Tensil diamonds I mentioned. As you know, a diamond mine was discovered during the canal construction. I was told these are made from the very first gems extracted. Do they please you?"
Silike looked away, took a sip of her coffee, and replied, "Not bad."
"I am glad. On that note, the plan I have laid out—!"
"Setting that aside."
Lennon’s mouth snapped shut, his face flushing with embarrassment.
Cutting him off, Silike turned and gave a brief look to the head maid. It was her signal that the matter of the shoes was concluded. Forget a word of thanks; his attempt to bring up his main business had been cut short, and Lennon’s expression twisted slightly.
Does she have any idea how much those cost?!
Ignoring Lennon’s thoughts, the head maid bowed with an expressionless face and led his butler out of the greenhouse.
"It has been two months," Silike said, her voice squeezed out from between her teeth. Her fist, resting on the table, clenched tightly. "Why is it still not done?"
Lennon wasn't surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. He knew her temperament better than anyone. He managed to force a smile, trying to placate her.
"Well… it seems to be due to Sispanian's blessing."
"Did you not say you had taken the power of the blessing into account? The rumors about the Third Prince are growing louder on all sides. It is highly irritating."
Lennon swallowed hard.
Fanning herself as she fell into thought, Silike spoke again. "Send more of it when you return. I will increase the dosage."
"Wouldn't that be too risky? Perhaps it would be better to use another method—!"
Silike didn't bother to listen. She turned her head away and waved her hand toward the door, a gesture akin to shooing away an annoying insect.
Lennon ground his teeth, but that was all he could do. In the end, he was dismissed without ever getting to start the conversation he had intended.
* * *
Lemain’s expression darkened as he fell into deep thought.
A house to stay in Kairis.
Of course, the proposition was welcome. In fact, Lemain had summoned Alan with the exact intention of keeping him in Kairis. He had judged that a figure of Alan's caliber was necessary to suppress Silike's influence.
But what are his true intentions?
Since Alan had brought up the matter first, Lemain couldn't help but be suspicious of his motives.
"I saw a red-eyed cat in the plaza, and I took quite a liking to it," Alan said. "I thought about raising it and teaching it a few things, but as it turns out, I don't even have a place to stay."
After a brief silence, Lemain spoke. "What do you intend to teach Calian?"
"Don't you think it would be entertaining?" Alan asked in return, picking up a cookie from the table. He broke it in half, popped a piece into his mouth, and chewed.
It was an incredibly insolent action to take while being questioned by the King, but Lemain waited in silence. After taking a sip of tea, Alan spoke with a look of keen anticipation.
"Black hair, red eyes… and magic."
"So… you are saying you will stay in Kairis to teach Prince Calian magic?"
"Not only that. I also plan to create an environment the cat will enjoy. To do that, shouldn't I help the homeowner tidy up the house a bit?"
Raising a disciple was merely a pretext. His true intention was to clean out Silike's faction and make Calian the next Crown Prince. Of course, this would not harm Lemain in any way.
Lemain lifted his teacup, took a sip, and set it down. "Can you handle it? The house is quite a mess, as you know."
"Since this is my first time raising anything, the question is whether you can handle it."
A barely perceptible smile touched Lemain's lips. "In any case, it is a good pretext. Master and disciple."
A master-disciple relationship with a prince was the most plausible excuse for Alan to settle down in Kairis. Naturally, the House of Marquis Brissen, including Silike, would oppose the prince's magic education, but their opponent was Alan Manasil.
"Since I was the one who first designated Prince Calian as my disciple, Brissen will have no clear justification to stop it. And since I cannot possibly teach magic all day long, they won't be able to interfere if a master with time to spare helps Your Majesty with a few chores. It was quite a proper invitation."
Hearing this, Lemain tilted his head slightly. Alan's words seemed to imply that Calian had orchestrated the pretext himself. However, Alan offered no further explanation.
After organizing his thoughts, Lemain replied, "Very well. I shall arrange a place for you. It's not as if this messy house can get any worse just because someone who wants to raise a cat moves in."
Alan bowed his head slightly in thanks.
But the conversation wasn't over. Lemain’s questions continued. "But I must ask, why him? He was a child with nothing special about him."
"Nothing special, you say?" A meaningful look entered Alan's eyes as he asked back. "On the contrary, I found it difficult to find anything about Prince Calian that wasn't special."
Even his poor health was special in its own way.
"I heard he was a timid child. I was told he was even afraid of horses, but seeing as he rode after you, he must have overcome that fear."
Alan recalled how Calian had ridden with such skill, how he had stood leaning against the beast as if it were an old friend.
Wait a minute… why does he keep…
A strange sense of dissonance in Lemain's words struck Alan.
"I have heard that Randel is like deep water, and Franz is like a raging wave. As for Calian… well, I was only told he was a quiet child who caused no trouble. I had no idea he possessed such talent."
Why does he keep saying he 'heard' or 'was told' everything? It's as if…
…he has never once looked at them with his own eyes.
"If there had been anything extraordinary, it would have been reported to me. So, in truth, I was a bit surprised."
Alan lifted his tea, moistened his throat, and stood. He walked over to the window with measured steps and looked out at the sprawling garden. He felt he needed to deliver an even more shocking revelation.
"Like Your Majesty, I married somewhat early. Because of that, I already have a granddaughter who is a wild colt."
For a moment, Lemain's fingers twitched. Though he already knew, it seemed he would need some time to get used to a man who looked younger than him saying such things.
Of course, the "more shocking revelation" Alan had in mind was not about his granddaughter. He raised his arm, palm facing down. "When I last saw her, her head reached my waist. Probably about this high… She must have grown since then. So, about this high."
His arm rose a bit.
Lemain wondered why he was suddenly talking about height, but for now, he listened. Staring at the king, Alan asked, "Do you, by any chance, know the heights of the princes, Your Majesty? Where they reach when standing beside you?"
Lemain did not answer. Because he did not know.
Expecting as much, Alan shifted his gaze to the documents piled on the desk. "I know that sometimes attention can be poison, and indifference can be medicine. I also know all too well that being busy is no excuse. Were you not with the princes just yesterday? You walked with them, stood with them. How could you not know?"
Lemain's eyes grew cold. Alan was now overstepping into the King's private domain.
"Sir Manasil, your concern is excessive. You met me for the first time today. My way of treating my children does not need to meet your standards." His voice continued, making no effort to hide his discomfort. "It is ridiculous that I even have to explain this, but I do cherish the princes."
"Do you truly believe that?"
Lemain paused, staring at Alan. He was trying his best to suppress his anger, knowing full well who he was dealing with. Thinking he needed to end this exhausting conversation, Lemain replied, "Calian, the child you met, is especially so. To me, he is the finger that hurts without even being bitten. Since you say you will teach him, I can try to understand your current attitude, but—"
"Ha!"
Alan let out a short, sharp laugh—a blatant sneer that cut right through the King's words.
Anger flared on Lemain's face, but Alan was not one to care. With an entirely unbothered expression, he said, "Then stop relying on hearsay and actually look at him."
"Look at what?" Lemain asked, as if he had nothing on his conscience.
To think he truly knows nothing at all.
A dangerous light flared in Alan's eyes. His voice, clearly suppressing his rage, flowed out.
"I'm telling you to stop calling him the finger that hurts without being bitten and actually bite it for once. See if it hurts more than before, or less."
"..."
"If you do nothing but watch from the sidelines, you will lose him."
"Sir Manasil," Lemain said, his voice sharp. "Speak plainly."
Alan walked back and stood before him. Recalling Calian's emaciated back, his voice changed—becoming lower, faster, more pressing.
"His skin has a bluish tint. The beds of his fingernails are purple. His lips are parched, and he gasps for breath. A dark shadow has begun to circle his pupils. He stops and closes his eyes when he stands, which means he's dizzy. His formal attire showed clear signs of a rushed alteration. They had to take it in. How long does it take to tailor formal wear? A month?"
The anger on Lemain's face gradually faded. He bit his lower lip, unable to answer. He had realized what Alan was implying.
"Could it be… someone is… to that child…"
Alan cut him off again. "Yes. You understand quickly. Which means you should have recognized it just as quickly. Of all people… you, Your Majesty, who have already experienced the exact same thing once before. Just as I did."
Freya.
A name Lemain had barely managed to lock away resurfaced in his mind.
"Even if that weren't the case, if his clothes had to be taken in after a mere month, it would have been obvious at a glance. Even if you didn't know his height, even if you didn't look at his hands or his lips, you should have noticed him wasting away. The one that child sought out to survive should have been his father, not a mage he had never met before!"
Lemain bent forward, burying his face in his hands. His fingertips trembled. He had never even imagined it.
"Poison…"
"That finger you claim to cherish so much—why don't you try biting it now?"
Alan bent down and picked up the other half of the cookie. Chewing it, he looked down at Lemain. Through the gaps between his fingers, the king's miserably distorted expression was fully visible.
"Or at least, don't make a face like that now."
Alan took a step back. Just as he had with Calian, he was signaling that he would not provoke the king any further.
"Please continue to act as though you know nothing of this. At this point, that is for the best. I only dared to speak of this in the hope that it will never happen again. Forgive my insolence."
Having finished, Alan offered a flawless bow and walked straight out of the room.